


illicit affairs

by NobleLandMermaid



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Porn, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27651266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobleLandMermaid/pseuds/NobleLandMermaid
Summary: New jobs, new cities, new relationships, and yet they cannot seem to escape one another. Will they be each other's salvation, or each other's downfall?Inspired by the song of the same name by TS (naturally)
Relationships: Karen Filippelli/Jim Halpert, Pam Beesly/Jim Halpert
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	1. make sure nobody sees you leave

**Author's Note:**

> _And that's the thing about illicit affairs  
>  And clandestine meetings  
> And longing stares  
> It's born from just one single glance  
> But it dies, and it dies, and it dies  
> A million little times  
> _
> 
> Crossposted at [MTT](http://mtt.just-once.net/fanfiction/viewstory.php?sid=5933) | [Fic Cover here](https://i.imgur.com/KerEqUA.jpg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start after 3.05 "Initiation" and go canon-divergent from there. Jim's in Stamford, Pam's single and in Scranton. What would have happened had there been another phone call...?
> 
> (answer: some not very SFW conversation)

_Just press the button._

This was now the twentieth or maybe fiftieth time Pam had pulled up his number on her phone in the last day. The first was in the car yesterday, still in the Scranton Office Park lot after they talked for at least two hours and after she stupidly ruined it saying “Bye!” right into the receiver. She wanted to blame Dwight and Ryan for distracting her, but she could only blame herself. Same thing went for a lot of what had gone wrong this year.

When she got home, when she had dinner, when she took a shower, all times she pulled up his number and also all time she talked herself out of it. Maybe she needed to leave it alone, let their phone call exist as a simple conversation between old friends. Like when she ran into an old classmate at the store, she would exchange pleasantries, chat a while, make an empty promise to talk again sometime soon, then part ways and go back to her life. 

Except Jim wasn’t just an old classmate. And she kind of blew up her life as she knew it five months ago.

Today was Friday and every break at work she checked her phone, praying there was a text or message from him before reminding herself he wasn't going to do that. No, anything would have to come from her.

Now she was home, changed into lounging clothes and staring at his number on her phone once again. He probably won’t answer, she told herself, he probably deleted her contact and would assume it's a stranger. And even that was presuming he didn’t just change his number outright.

She would never know how it happened but the call button was pressed and she nearly dropped the phone when she heard the ring tone. Third ringtone there was still no answer and she imagined Jim staring at his phone refusing to answer, or maybe out on a date and not even hearing it. Fourth ring, she was ready to hang up and nearly dropped her phone again when a “ _Hello_?” came from the other end.

She pressed the phone to her ear, taking deep breaths before he said “ _Hello?_ ” once again.

“Um, hi,” she finally said.

_“Who is this?”_

She knew it, he had deleted her contact. “Oh, sorry um, it’s - it’s Pam.”

“ _I know who it is,_ ” he said with a light laugh and Pam also let out a chuckle of relief. _“What’s up?”_

Pam wished she had something smooth or flirty to say but she settled on the truth, “I just - I’m sorry our call yesterday ended awkwardly.”

_“Ah, well, it was getting kinda late.”_

“I know, I didn’t mind though.”

Jim waited a beat before replying, _“I didn’t mind either.”_ He took a shaky breath (or maybe she just imagined it was shaky), _“So you’re calling me now, no Friday night plans?”_

After sitting literally on the edge of her seat, Pam finally leaned back and settled into her couch. “I might order a pizza and see what two-star movies basic cable has to offer me tonight. How about you?”

_“Probably about the same.”_

“Really? That surprises me.” Jim asked why that was and Pam pushed the thought of him on a date with some smart, pretty, outgoing business woman out of her mind. “Aren’t you like an hour from the city?”

_“Yeah, but, is it completely uncool of me to reveal I haven’t been to the city once since I moved here?”_

“Why not?”

 _“I dunno, nothing there of great interest to me,”_ he said, Pam could almost see him shrug.

“I would want to go every weekend just to check out the museums.” She eyed her sketchbook on the coffee table. She would take that with her, fill it with replications of masterpieces, balance out the pages of sketches of a certain coworker. Well, ex-coworker.

_“See I’m not a museum person, I mean, not solo, I’d go with you though.”_

Pam smiled, feeling her cheeks get warm. “Let’s go now.” Jim chuckled at her cheerful suggestion. “No for real, I’ll start going now, you wait an hour and then you go, we’ll meet at MoMA.”

_“Awesome! Except I’m pretty sure all the museums close at five.”_

“What, no!” she said, playing up faux disappointment. “Just as well, I don’t feel like getting dressed anyway.”

_“You’re not dressed? Taking ‘Casual Fridays’ to a new level, huh?”_

“No, I’m wearing clothes but nothing I’d go out in, and not wearing a bra basically is not dressed.” She felt her eyes widen and started bumbling, “I mean, I have one of those tanks on with the little shelf bra.”

There’s a long pause on Jim’s end and Pam nearly smacked her hand to her forehead, why did she say that? She should change the subject, maybe he would save this with a joke. He finally spoke, his voice a little husky (or maybe she imagined it was). _“Shelf bra, huh?”_

“Yeah there like an extra bit of fabric inside and then an elastic band. It’s, um…”

 _“What color is it?”_ Now his voice was definitely lower and husky.

“Pink.” She laughed nervously, “How basic am I?”

_“No, pink is ... really pretty on you.”_

She started playing with the hem of this pink tank, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “It’s really thin.” Oh god, what was she saying? “I mean, even with the shelf bra, I get a chill and, well...” 

This was ridiculous, he was surely going to ignore her comment, change the topic, bring up Dwight or Michael, suddenly remember he did indeed have plans and he had to go now. Something.

_“What if you, just, accidentally brush against something.”_

Oh god, what was _he_ saying, was this really happening?

“I don’t know, I suppose I can try it out. Should I?”

She was sure she heard him swallow hard. _“Yes,”_ he breathed.

She bit her lip and started brushing her knuckles lightly against the tip of her breast, making a small circle until she could feel her nipple start to firm up underneath. She let out a “mmm” into the phone.

 _“So?”_ Jim choked out.

“Well, this tank top is very thin, one brush and…”

 _“Tell me.”_ She felt bad for enjoying this but the desperation in his voice was just so delicious.

“And my nipples are hard.” He practically let out a grunt and she smiled, “How about you, are you hard?”

He chuckled nervously and then his voice lowered, _“Pam, I’ve been half-hard since I answered the phone.”_

If she wasn’t already turned on, that voice and those words would have certainly done it. “And what are you wearing?”

_“Tee-shirt, basketball shorts.”_

“Those basketball shorts don’t hide much, do they?”

_“Not much more than your shelf-bra tank.”_

She giggled, her fingers still absentmindedly trailing across her breasts. “Tell me what you want me to do next.”

There was a long, heavy silence, building the anticipation. _“I want you to touch yourself and tell me how wet you are.”_

It was so strange to hear him like this, but his husky, breathy voice in her ear made her hardly care. She slid her hand under the waistband of her pants and underwear and it was confirmed she was indeed very aroused. “My panties are soaked.” 

He let out a low guttural _“Fuck”_ and just that nearly sent her over the edge, him cursing was so unbelievably sexy to her. 

“Are you touching yourself now?”

 _“Yes,”_ he said between pants, and she had a crystal clear mental image of his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping rhythmically. 

“What would you do to me if I was there?”

 _“A lot of things.”_ Pam nudged with a “like what?” and he inhaled, _“I would spread your legs wide and lick you until you come. God, all I wanna do is make you come.”_

Pam practically moaned into the phone as her finger started circling her clit, trying to imagine it was his tongue. “And then?”

_“Then I’d fuck you until you come again, fill you up with my cock.”_

She moaned at the thought of him above her, sweat along his hairline, pushing in her over and over. “If I were there, I would take you in my mouth. Would you like that, my lips wrapped around you?”

_“Shit, yes, please.”_

“And I’d suck you dry, I’d swallow every last drop.”

He wasn’t forming words anymore, just grunts and moans, and she was in the same state. Her hip started to rise and she worked her clit more intensely. She pictured him also with his hips raised, his hand stroking his thick shaft faster and faster.

 _“Fuck, Pam, I’m close, are you close?”_ She hummed “yes”, her eyes shut tight. _“I wanna hear you. God, I wish I could see you.”_

“Oh god, I’m … oh Jim!” she cried out, stilling her hand and feeling the pulsations against her fingertips. Between her breaths she heard him let out a deep groan, and she also wished she could see him, wished she could know what he looked like when he came.

His breaths steadied and he exhaled, _“Wow.”_

“Yeah,” she replied. She pulled her hand out from under her waistband and looked at her shiny fingertips before curling up her hand. _What do we do now_ , she wondered. Talk more? Set up a date? Offer to meet him tonight at whatever hotel they can both get to the fastest. “So, um-”

 _“Hey, can I call you back, I kinda have a mess here,”_ he said sheepishly.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” she said, resisting the urge to lower her voice again and ask for details.

 _“Later, Pam.”_

She replied but he already hung up the phone.

It was just as well they were off the phone, she also wanted to wash her hand and change certain undergarments. As she lathered up her hands in the bathroom sink, she looked in the mirror, cheeks flushed, frizzy tendrils of hair coming loose from her ponytail. What just happened? How did it happen? Yesterday it was three kitchens and movie mix-ups and today it was phone sex. She wrinkled her nose at the term “phone sex”, it sounded cheesy and dated, but that’s what it was. And she had no idea what was supposed to happen next.

He said he’d call back, she reminded herself. She returned to the living room and looked at her phone, he didn’t say when though. But surely tonight, right? After ten minutes of her staring and her phone not ringing, she grabbed it and called Alfredo’s for her usual pizza order.

Two slices into her pizza pie and half-way through _While You Were Sleeping_ , Jim still hadn’t called back. He probably felt awkward and had no idea what came next either, Pam thought, maybe a little text to nudge him and make him feel less awkward.

But what to write? “ _That was fun_ ”? “ _Let’s do it again soon (in person)_ ”? As she typed, her phone dinged and a _New Message from Jim Halpert_ alert popped up. She smiled to herself and pulled up the message. But her smile quickly faded and she swallowed hard.

_\- Hey, I’m not sure what got into me earlier, I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable. Friends still?_

Pam’s heart sank. _Friends still?_ This intimate moment they just had, this thing that had been building between them for three years if Pam was being honest and his reaction was to ignore the whole thing and just remain friends. 

_Yes of course, friends still._ She typed quickly, ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

His next message was fast, as if he had it ready. _Talk again soon?_

A scoff came out her mouth before she could stop it. She honestly didn’t see that happening. He probably didn’t either. 

_\- I’d like that. Have a good night._

And with that, she tossed her phone across the couch and reached for a third piece of pizza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up, friends!


	2. hood over your head, keep your eyes down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week has passed since Jim and Pam's call...
> 
> Still not straying too far from canon, kind of an alternate Diwali (the Stamford side at least)

_OMG, Michael just did the most Michael thing ever. Get back to me ASAP, I wanna be the first to tell you :-D_

It was eight in the morning when Jim finally read this message that Pam sent him a full twelve hours ago. The reason he hadn't read the text yet was sound asleep next to him, and he wished he could fall back asleep with her but the alcoholic buzz he attained last night had faded into a full-fledged hangover headache. He carefully slipped out of bed and managed not to disturb her, her breath stayed heavy and her dark hair fanned across the pillow. In search of water and an aspirin he wandered, phone in hand, to the bathroom.

He and Pam had their … phone call last Friday which ended with him rushing to hang up and deal with the resulting mess. He remembered washing his hands and catching his reflection in the bathroom mirror and then the overthinking began. How did it happen, what did it mean, what came next? The “how” was easy, he was lonely and horny, she gave him an opening with the shelf bra line and the distance and knowledge he wouldn't see her any time soon led him (and he presumed her too) to say things that he had thought plenty of times but never dreamed of saying.

The “what did it mean” was where his brain stumbled, what the fuck did it mean? Why couldn't either of them even come close to addressing what happened in May but they could talk dirty and moan into the phone. Was it the start of something? Or was it just the culmination of four years of tension?

Finally, what came next? They were three states apart now, he couldn’t see her coming to Stamford for any reason and he sure as hell wasn’t going back to Scranton. Maybe it was just a one time thing and nothing came next.

So that was more or less what he texted to Pam. Chalked it up to getting carried away, let her off the hook with the “hope it didn’t make you uncomfortable” comment. And then, the part he hated himself most for, asked if they could still be friends. He halfway hoped that she would call him out or tell him to go to hell but she replied exactly as expected. He ended the whole thing with an empty promise to talk sometime soon and figured her reply that she would like that was equally empty and just a way to end the conversation.

Friday came around again and Jim should have been annoyed that he had to stay late for quarterly sales forms consolidation but honestly anything that kept him away from being alone on his couch next to his ever-so-tempting phone was fine by him. And when they were done and Karen suggested they go get drinks at the bar down the road that was even better.

For the first few months Jim was pretty sure the brunette saleswoman who sat behind him hated him, she seemed annoyed by his very presence, rolling her eyes whenever he tried to make a joke and teasing him constantly. But he finally got on Karen’s good side a couple weeks ago when he tried to help her track down a bag of chips and since then it’s been obvious she had a crush on him. Maybe that’s what came next after that call from Scranton last week, he can finally move forward, go on a date and not be thinking of someone else the entire time.

Karen made that easy during their drinks, she was funny, smart, interesting. And not least of all very attractive, her bright hazel eyes sparkling with mischief when she told him stories of messing with Andy in that low raspy voice, her full lips curling into a smile when Jim recalled some of his own antics back at the Scranton branch. She was so engaging that even when she went to the restroom and Jim saw the _“New Message - Pam Beesly”_ notification on his phone he was able to just slip the whole device into his pocket without checking it.

The later it became and the more drinks they had, the more she “accidentally” touched his arm and he “incidently” brushed her leg. Once they both turned down another drink and paid the bill (seperately, though Jim did offer) they left the restaurant, stepping into the chilly late-October-evening air.

“Okay, it’s ‘fficial,” her words slightly slurred together. “There’s no driving home tonight.”

"I think no biking for me either,” Jim slurred back, remembering the bicycle still locked up at the Dunder Mifflin building. “I'll end up in a bush." His unfocused eyes met Karen’s, "Split a cab home? Your car will be fine at work, right?”

Karen nodded and they were able to quickly hail a taxi and climbed into the back seat. The driver started down the road and asked where to.

“Two stops,” Jim held up two fingers somewhat dramatically and Karen giggled. “First, 105 North Grove Street, and then -”

He looked to Karen, her giggles subsided and she started staring at Jim’s mouth, biting her own bottom lip. Before Jim could say anything she leaned forward and smashed her lips against his, her hand on the back of his head keeping him close to her. They parted and she bit her lip again, this time smiling.

“Um, sorry, just the one stop,” Jim stammered to the taxi driver before pulling Karen’s face to his again.

When the taxi pulled up to his apartment building, Jim fumbled with his wallet as Karen rubbed his thigh, her hand moved high and higher and his cock was already responding. “Here, keep the change,” Jim tossed a $20 into the front seat and they both stumbled out of the cab.

They weren’t two steps into the apartment building before Karen wrapped her arm around his neck to make him lean over into another kiss.

“You need anything?” Jim had no idea why he asked that.

“Bedroom,” she said with her lips pressed against his.

Jim nodded and they sloppily kissed as they made their way through the apartment, stumbling when they both kicked off their shoes and bumping into the hallway and door frame.

Clothes were off before Jim knew it and Karen pushed him back onto the bed. She crawled halfway up him, taking his erection in her hand and giving him a couple strokes before bending down to take him in her mouth. He watched her as she bobbed slowly up and down, the ends her silky dark hair tickling his skin, but holding his head at this angle was making him dizzy and making the booze in his stomach start to churn so he lay back and closed his eyes.

_“Would you like that, my lips wrapped around you?”_

He managed to keep _her_ out of his thoughts all evening, even when he saw her name on his phone. But now all he could hear was her soft, breathy voice clearly in his head.

_“I’d swallow every last drop.”_

“Shit,” he uttered without thinking.

Karen lifted her head, she thankfully took his cursing to be out of pleasure and she smirked while her hand continued stroking. “You like that?”

Jim exhaled, “Uh-huh.” She started lowering her head again but Jim reached down to still her hand. “Hey, c’mere.”

She grinned and crawled up the bed until she was straddling his hips, then lifted herself up on her knees and guided him into her. Thoughts of anyone else left his mind and he was able to keep all his attention on her gorgeous tan skin, her small pert breasts, her liquor-soaked moans. She moved slowly and deliberately, then faster and faster until he lifted his hips and she stilled hers. They both let out a deep groan and she collapsed next to him.

Breathing heavy they looked at each other and both chuckled. He was sure she was laughing at the fact she just had sex with that gangly coworker she hated so much at first. His was more a laugh of relief, after years of half-hearted dating he finally proved to himself he _can_ do it, he can actually have an evening with a woman and enjoy her company and have fun.

“Oh my God, I’m so tired,” Karen said, letting out a yawn.

“Yeah, you wore yourself out there” Jim teased and she rolled her eyes. “Nah I’m beat also, let's go to sleep, we’ll have a homemade breakfast tomorrow.”

She grinned and snuggled into his side as he put his arm around her, “Sounds good.”

“You’ll be making breakfast though, right?” Jim joked after a moment.

She sat up. “I _will_ call a cab, Halpert. Probably could even get a free ride if I just go like this,” she said, motioning to her naked breasts.

Jim laughed and Karen gave him a playful slap on his chest before settling back into bed. Within minutes she started breathing heavy and he dozed off soon after.

* * * * *

_Get back to me ASAP, I wanna be the first to tell you :-D_

He stared at the text message, unsure what to do. Of course he was curious what exactly Michael did, plus he was racking his brain wondering why Pam would even be with Michael at eight o’clock at night. But why even text at all, did she actually want to try to be friends? Could _he_ do that, just be friends with her?

“Hey.” Jim’s shoulders jerked and he nearly dropped his phone. He turned his head to see Karen in the doorway, dressed in a The National tour tee-shirt pair of his pajama bottoms. She laughed, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

Jim slipped the phone in his pocket. “You need to wear a bell or something.” They stood smiling at each other for a moment then Karen pointed to the toilet. “Oh, right, duh,” Jim said, passing Karen and walking into the hallway. “Um, breakfast?”

“If you’re cooking,” Karen smirked, closing the door behind her. Jim chuckled and headed to the kitchen.

~

“Sorry, I thought I actually had eggs,” Jim set a bowl and a carton of milk on the kitchen table in front of Karen. It turned out he didn’t have anything to actually _make_ breakfast in his apartment so they had to settle for cereal.

“I’m just bummed you don’t have Cap’n Crunch,” Karen quipped.

Jim smiled and opened up his refrigerator. “I have some yogurts, vanilla, peach, raspberry, um mixed ber-”

“Raspberry’s good.”

Jim grabbed that and peach for himself and returned to the table. Once finished with his cereal, he peeled off the lid of his yogurt and studied the gold metallic foil for a moment. “Hey you know how I’m supposed to coordinate that team building activity in a few weeks.”

“Yeah, lucky you,” Karen teased with a mouthful of cereal.

“What do you think of something like Office Olympics?”

Karen knitted her brows, “Okay, what would that entail?”

Jim stood up straighter in his chair, lifted his hands and started gesturing. “Like we’d have teams, we could choose a country we’re representing or make up one and make a little flag, then we’d have different sporting events, a race with paper reams tied on your feet, paper airplane throwing, a coffee mug race…” Karen skewed her lips to the side and Jim lowered his hands. “You don’t like it.”

Karen lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know, it’s not that I don’t _like_ it, it just seems a little … summer campy? Not really seeing the professional team building aspect.”

Jim nodded, “Okay, yeah, I … think you’re right.” He grabbed his yogurt and started stirring it up.

Karen scoffed to herself and shook her head, “Ah shit, I just completely shot down your idea, didn’t I? You probably had put a bunch of thought into that -”

He chuckled, “No no, it’s fine, I really hadn’t put any thought into it.”

“No, really, I think when I’ve had coffee and I’m not nursing a bit of a hangover, you should run this by me again. Deal?”

He titled his head from side to side as if mulling it over but when she gave him her best “pretty please?” pout he smiled, “Yeah, okay deal.” She gave him a satisfied grin, and tore the lid of her own yogurt. When they were finished with breakfast, Karen tossed her yogurt cup and lid into the trash bin and went to change back into her clothes. Jim rinsed off the lid and left it on the counter, figuring maybe he could use it.

Jim drove Karen back to work to get her car and his bicycle. Once his bike was secure in the rack on his bumper, he turned to face Karen.

“So, it was fun,” Karen playfully tilted her head.

Jim shrugged, “Yeah.” Karen lifted her hand ready to play-smack him but Jim grabbed her arm and pulled her in for a kiss.

“You, um, wanna get together tonight?” Karen asked when their lips parted, running her fingers along the open flap of his coat. “I know a great Italian place near Westcott Cove, even my nonna approves of their carbonara.”

“Well, if it’s Nonna-approved then I’m there.” Jim smiled at her laughter and kissed her again. “I’ll see you tonight then, Filippelli.”

“See you then.” She smiled widely and started walking to her silver SUV. “Oh and I really do wanna hear more about the Office Olympics,” she called to him when she reached her car door.

Jim grinned, “I’ll work on my proposal.” He watched her car zoom out of the lot, waving as it turned onto the road.

After a trip to the supermarket, Jim came back to his apartment and started putting away the eggs, pancake mix and other cooking essentials he just bought. The shiny gold circle on the counter caught his eye and he picked it up and ran his thumb over the textured foil. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and once again opened up the text message from last night. The urge hit him to just delete the whole thing and forget about it. _You’re the one that said ‘let’s be friends’ and ‘hope to talk soon’, remember? She’s just taking you up on it._

He began typing. _“Sorry I missed this. What did ol’ Michael Gary Scott do this time?”_ He pressed _send_ before he could talk himself out of it. Setting the phone down next to the foil lid, he grabbed coffee grounds and filters out of the cupboard and started making himself a pot. Just as he hit start, his phone dinged.

_“It’s probably easier to tell you than to text, free to talk?”_

He chewed his lip for a while then typed a response. _“Sure, I’m free.”_ He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was most likely a bad idea, but despite that when he saw the “Pam Beesly Calling” on his phone screen he couldn't help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was kind of an exposition chapter but the angst I promise is coming soon. 
> 
> Couple fun notes: I intended the National mention as a little nod to folklore (founding member Aaron Dressner worked with Taylor on her album), but then I discovered they have a song on their 2005 album called "Karen" and, in addition to it being a great song, it definitely fits what I see Karen and Jim relationship being in the fic.
> 
> Also I borrowed a bit from the first draft of the Diwali script, in it Jim and Karen do go on a date and Jim blows off the text from Pam and kisses Karen instead. So thank you Mindy Kaling for the inspiration (but also thank you Greg Daniels for not actually going that direction on the show XD)


	3. tell your friends you're out for a run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Pam got up to after Diwali.

Pam must have laid in bed wide awake for forty-five minutes before convincing herself to get up. Not that she had anything to do this late Saturday morning besides chores, but she at least wanted to be able to say she was out of bed before noon. First thing she did was ball up her comforter and then gather up her sheets to throw in the laundry. Peeling the cover off her pillow, she then grabbed the other pillow to take a whiff and wrinkled her nose at the smell of way-too-strong “masculine” shampoo that had permeated the fabric. She would probably need to wash this pillowcase twice.

Last night, once she got Michael home from the Diwali celebration and once it was abundantly clear she wouldn’t be getting any response to a text she sent earlier in the night, she decided to send another text. This time to a number she never saved and had to scroll through a couple weeks of text messages to find.

_Hey it’s Pam, busy tonight? Up for getting a drink?_

The phone dinged quickly and she checked the message at the next stoplight, fully expecting the reply to be 'sorry, can’t tonight.'

\- _Hey! Sure, where at?_

Shit, she hadn’t thought this far ahead. Any place that immediately came to mind was a place where she would be in danger of running into Roy (she was sure she spotted him wander into the gymnasium earlier tonight but she must have been mistaken since whoever she saw quickly disappeared).

 _I don’t know, do you have any place in mind?_ She texted back before the light changed.

_\- Someplace quiet sounds good to me._

She pulled over in some residential neighborhood and typed out a message but was hesitant to send it. Is she really going to do this? Her thumb tapped “send” before she could overthink it.

_How about this little place I know called Pamela’s?_

It was so cringy, she was prepared for the next message to be him weaseling out of meeting, or maybe he’ll just never respond.

_\- Don’t know that bar, small I assume ;-) Where/when?_

She typed her apartment address and agonized between saying come over in 30 minutes or hour before she decided an hour gave her mind too much time to talk herself out of this. _1150 Maple Unit G, 30 minutes?_

_\- See you soon._

Half-and-hour was still too much time, once she tidied up as best she could and took stock of her drinking options (she hoped he liked vodka), she was ready to call and suggest finding a bar after all when there was a knock at her door.

Danny Cordray was brought in to interview for the open sales position a couple months ago. Michael made Pam sit in on the interviews to take notes especially about their 'undefinable qualities'. She remembered Danny being very impressive and Michael coming dangerously close to offering him a higher salary than Michael was authorized to give. Danny didn’t have much interest in the job after it was clear he would only be a junior salesman, but he did take an interest in Pam, getting her number and asking her out. Pam’s take-away from her two dates with Danny Cordray was 1) he was very good-looking and 2) they had nothing in common. He was plenty nice and polite, but Pam was hardly surprised after their second date when she sent a somewhat obligatory 'I had a nice time, hope to see you again' text, he never called or text her back.

But here he was now, possibly better looking than she remembered with hair slightly tousled in a clearly intentional way and a perfectly even 5 o’clock shadow. He smiled that dazzling smile of his (still only the 2nd best smile she had ever seen) and held up a bottle of expensive looking rum. “I figured ‘Pamela’s’ was a BYOB kind of establishment.”

After mixing up some rum and cokes, they took a seat on her couch. “Nice place,” Danny said, looking around the small apartment. “Cozy.”

Pam giggled nervously, “Cozy is a word for it.” Her eyes then fell on the coffee table and the home-printed kama sutra booklet Michael had handed out today at work (and that she tucked under her leg to keep Toby from confiscating it). “Oh my god,” she muttered, leaning over and slipping it inside of her hardbound sketchbook.

“What was that?” Danny asked, sipping his drink.

“Oh something highly inappropriate my boss handed out today,” Pam hoped her cheeks weren’t too red.

“Your boss is still that Michael Scott character, right?” Pam nodded and Danny chuckled. “He is something else.”

“Yeah he is.” Pam thought back to earlier in the evening and laughed, “You know what he did tonight? He made all of us go to this Diwali celebration because our co-worker is Indian. And he brought his girlfriend and must have told her it was a costume party because she dressed up like a cheerleader. Anyway just out of nowhere he proposed to her. In front of everyone!”

Danny raised his eyebrows, but the tone of his voice stayed the same. “Wow.”

Pam took a sip of her drink, realizing he had no clue about Michael and Carol’s backstory. “I probably should have mentioned they started dating in like May.”

“Oh okay, so he kinda jumped the gun, huh?”

“Yeah, just a little. So she responded with a ‘let’s talk in private’ and long story short I gave him a ride home.” Danny responded with a soft laugh and Pam sat, sipping her drink and unsure what to say next.

“That’s your sketchbook? I remember you saying you liked to draw.”

Pam stared at the black sketchbook, thinking about the many sketches it contained of a certain salesman who used to sit near her at work. “Nothing in there is very good, but I have my class portfolio in my room, if you’d like to see it.”

Danny cocked his head to the side and gave her grin, “Absolutely.”

They both finished off their drinks and Danny followed her into the bedroom. He played with some trinkets on top of her dresser while Pam fetched her portfolio from the closet. Pam sided up to Danny and opened up the portfolio to a recent watercolor of a flower vase. “This is just a class study but I loved this vase.” Danny nodded and smiled and Pam turned to the next art piece, a sketch of the Scranton Business park. “I’d like to make this into a watercolor.”

“It’s very realistic,” Danny said, his eyes getting heavy lidded.

Pam flipped through a few more paintings and sketches before Danny set his hand on the portfolio. Her heart started racing and she looked over to him and met his dark eyes.

“Listen, you are very talented, but I think we both know you didn’t invite me over for an art critique.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Pam closed up her portfolio and set it down on the floor, leaning against her dresser. He was right, she certainly didn’t invite him to look at her art or listen to stories about her boss, but the thought of doing the thing she did invite him over for made her anxious. She turned back to Danny, who reached up to tuck a curl behind her ear before leaning in to kiss her. It was a lot of tongue right away, and she was embarrassed that that was her first thought. He was a good kisser though, once she got passed that. And very skilled at blindly working zippers and buttons, by the time their lips parted her hoodie was on the floor and the fly of her jeans were open. He pushed her tee shirt up over her head and was quickly back to kissing, unhooking her bra as he nipped at her neck.

All her clothes were off and he gently pushed her down on her bed then started working on the buttons of his dress shirt. “That guy was like an underwear model,” she recalled Michael saying after Danny’s interview and much as she did not want to be thinking about Michael Scott at this moment, he was right. His torso was lean and his arms well defined. He knelt on the floor in front of her and his hand were quickly on her breasts, thumbs running over her nipples to firm them up before leading down and licking one, then the other. He looked up to her with a wicked grin. “Lie back.”

She lay down, he lifted up her legs until they were on his shoulders and when his tongue found her clit she let out a gasp. She kind of wished he built up to it more, and wished he wouldn’t do this light tongue flick that tickled more than anything, but when he pushed two fingers into her and finally started licking with more pressure she moaned, that pleasurable tension building in her core.

_“I would spread your legs wide and lick you until you come. God, all I wanna do is make you come.”_

The gravelly voice was so clear in her head, she didn’t try to suppress it. In fact if she blurred her vision as she looked down, it was easy to imagine this man with tousled dark hair was actually…

She came hard and fast, letting out a gasping cry. Danny got to his feet, a smirk on his face, and pushed his shorts down. Still breathing heavy, Pam scooted herself back and as Danny climbed on the bed, Pam leaned over to her night stand drawer and pulled out a condom. She bit her lip holding up the metallic square but Danny took it without question, skillfully tearing the wrapper and rolling on the latex sheath. He pushed her legs up against her chest, folding her in half, then one push and he was inside her. It was smart of him, this position, it let him get deep and made both of them feel he was bigger than he was.

(Pam tried to remember what this position was called in that Kama Sutra booklet, The Red Phoenix or something?)

Danny cursed as he pumped in and out of her, a little too fast for Pam’s tastes but she moaned loudly all the same, giving him encouragement. Face red and jaw slacked, Danny let out a loud moan, his thrusts slowing to a stop, and he rolled off her.

As he got up to deal with the condom, Pam stared at the ceiling, wishing everything was just a little different. That Danny had taken more time, kissed her a little longer and moved a little softer. She wished conversation was easier, she wished he made her laugh more.

Only when she heard a flush did she realize he had gone to the bathroom and even then she didn’t turn her head to look at him until he was back in bed.

“I should have called you back a lot sooner,” Danny said, giving her a kiss before dropping his head onto the pillow.

Pam arched an eyebrow, “Yeah? Why didn’t you?”

Danny chuckled nervously, “Oh now don’t do that.”

“Do what?” Pam rolled on her side, propping her head on her hand. “Why didn’t you call me back?”

Smile faded, Danny avoided her steady gaze. “Please don’t take this the wrong way.” Pam did her best to hide her anxiousness and kept her eyes on him. “You were sweet and nice and cute, obviously, I just thought you were a little ... dorky.”

“Oh, ‘dorky’ huh?” Pam said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Just a little, but shit, you proved me wrong tonight.” He gave her another kiss, his tongue slipping past her lips, and he pulled her close to him. “Nothing dorky about you.” He said, his eyes were getting that dark look in them again and his fingers tracing the curve of her ass.

Pam bit her lip, if they were gonna do this again she wanted to freshen up a little. “Can you hold that thought for two minutes,” she said. Danny pouted a little but let go of her and she rolled out of bed and ran to the bathroom.

Once she peed and washed up a bit she looked in the mirror. Was she going to do this? Go have sex again with this man who kind of insulted her and was a little lacking in technique (not to mention in size) and only made her come because she was imagining someone else between her legs?

 _Suck it up Beesly._ She squared her shoulders, making a promise to herself to be more direct about what she liked and wanted this time, and walked back into the bedroom.

He was completely passed out. Honestly, she was relieved. Tiptoeing around, she put on some pajamas, slipped under the covers so she wouldn’t wake him, and fell asleep fast.

When she woke up, the bed was empty, and the sound of a running faucet was coming from her bathroom. She flipped over to grab her phone and when her blurry eyes focused she saw it was not quite 8am (she also saw there were no new messages, though she told herself she didn't care). The bathroom door opened and Danny walked out, completely dressed and hair somehow restyled in a perfectly tousled coif.

“Hey,” Pam called out in a husky half-asleep voice.

Danny spun around, startled for a second before putting on a wide smile, “Hey! I’m so sorry, I have to get going.”

Pam felt her eyebrows meet, where does he need to go this early on a Saturday? “Oh okay,” she said instead.

He walked over and leaned down to give her a kiss. “Last night was great though, any time you wanna do that again? Let me know.”

And with that he was gone. She hoped he locked the door behind him, and groaned as she pulled the covers over her head.

* * * * *

_“So he left at 8 in the morning?”_

“Yeah, and clearly had no intention of saying goodbye, I just happened to wake up.” Pam switched her phone to her other hand and started unloading her dryer.

 _“Ugh, men!”_ Isabel said. _“Was the rest of the night good at least?”_

“It was fine. He was fine.”

_“Don’t ‘it was fine’ me, Pam, give me details.”_

Laughing, Pam picked up her laundry basket and started making her way to the living room. “Well, we started kissing in my room and he was very good at undressing me. And then he undressed, and his chest and arms were pretty wow.” Pam’s cheeks started to burn, “And then he went down on me.”

_“Right off? Nice!”_

“Yeah, except he did this, like, very light tongue flick thing.”

Isabel started scoffing, _“Oh no, the feather duster? I hate that. It just makes you wanna laugh and you can’t do that!”_

“Yes, exactly! But eventually it was good. So then after that we’re up on the bed and, I don’t know, he was fine, maybe could have been a little slower.” Pam chewed the inside of her cheek, “He also wasn’t all that big.”

_“Ah, okay, okay, now we’re getting to it. I didn’t know you were so discerning about your dicks.”_

Pam laughed, “Roy was lacking in a lot of areas but that was not one of them.”

_“Oh speaking of Roy, I saw him at Wegmans the other day and you did not warn me.”_

“Warn you about what?” Pam asked, digging through the laundry basket and matching up her socks.

_“How bangable your ex-fiance is now. That beard? Holy shit!”_

Pam found herself nodding. “Yeah, the beard looks good, I can admit that.”

_“Better than ‘good’. Haven’t you thought about, you know, revisiting that? Just for one night?”_

Of course the thought had crossed her mind a time or three, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell Isabel that. “No, no, nothing good can come from that.”

_“...Do you mind if I visit that for one night?”_

“Izzy!”

_“I’m kidding, I’m totally kidding! But, like, say I wasn’t kidding, how long would you hate me for?”_

“Good lord,” Pam muttered. There was a text message alert in her ear and Pam took a look, double taking on Jim’s name. “Hey, can I call you back in a bit?”

_“Why, who texted you? Big Dick Roy or Not-so-Big Dick Danny?”_

“I regret telling you anything ever,” she said to Isabel’s laughter. “Also it’s neither of them.”

_“Whoa, a third dick? Okay, I’ll let you get to that, let me know about going out tonight!”_

“I will, talk to you later,” Pam said, chuckling as she ended the call. She had told Isabel almost nothing about the Jim situation, she hadn’t told anyone about it really besides her mother. And even her mom stopped bringing Jim up after the wedding was cancelled, Pam suspected out of an irrational fear it would somehow get to Roy or his parents.

_\- Sorry I missed this. What did ol’ Michael Gary Scott do this time?_

What was she supposed to do with this? The text she sent last night was mostly an excuse to contact him, a hope that it would turn into a conversation and that conversation would maybe possibly turn into a “I can be there in two hours.” Why didn’t he just ignore this? Did he actually mean it when he said “friends still”?

She started typing, ready to say it was just a silly thing he had to be there for but she paused. If they were going to be friends then this was the way, plus she really did want to talk about the proposal incident to someone who would get it. She erased the message she started and instead asked if she could call to tell him. When he replied 'yes' she sat up straight and tapped on his name. As the phone rang, she looked over to her laundry basket where a pair of pink panties sat on top of the pile. She grabbed them and stuffed them down the side of the basket, no talking about undergarments of any kind this time.

_“Hey.”_

Fuck, when did him just saying ‘hey’ become this sexy? Pam tried to shake the thought out of her head and immediately started on the Michael story. “Hey! So here’s what happened, Kelly invited us all to Diwali, it’s an Indian festival of lights.”

 _“Ah, a cultural event, which Michael always handles with great respect and sensitivity,”_ Jim deadpanned.

Pam giggled, “Precisely. So he brings Carol the realtor and she’s dressed up like a cheerleader because Michael told her it was a costume party. Or at least I’m assuming.”

_“Off to a great start.”_

“So it was pretty fun, there was dancing and the food was really good. And then Michael goes up and grabs the mic, just right in the middle of a song and he makes this speech about love and then proposes to Carol.”

_“Don’t all little girls dream of being proposed to in front of a bunch of strangers wearing a cheerleader outfit?”_

Pam rolled her eyes, as if Jim could see her. “So guess what she said.”

_“Well, I’m hoping she said ‘No’.”_

“She said ‘Can we talk about this in private?’”

Jim let out a hoot and Pam grin. _“Oh, that’s_ brutal _. That might be worse than just ‘No.’”_

“I ended up up giving him a ride home. But not before he tried to kiss me.” Jim started chuckling. “It’s not funny,” she whined, unable to stop laughing herself.

_“How close did he get?”_

“Not _that_ close, but still way too close.”

_“It sounds like quite the night, I’m sad I wasn’t there.”_

“Yeah, me too,” Pam said without thinking. Her eyes widened at what she said and she started stammering, “What were you up to last night?” She was pretty sure she didn’t want to hear the answer.

 _“Um…”_ His hesitancy made her definitely sure she didn’t want to hear the answer. _“Well, the sales staff had to stay late for paperwork. After that I grabbed a drink with one of them.”_ He took a breath, _“Karen.”_

“That’s cool. So, like a date?” Pam’s mouth was dry and she was sure her voice was shaky.

_“Um, yeah, I guess it was like a date.”_

“Did you have a good time?” She had no idea why she was continuing this topic, some dumb idea that if they were to be actual friends they should be able to chat about this kind of thing.

 _“Yeah it was nice.”_ He didn’t seem eager to go into details, which was fine by Pam. _“Although, she didn’t really think much of my suggestion to hold an office olympics as a team building activity.”_

Pam let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding in. “Did you tell her about flonkerton?”

_“I did! And no reaction.”_

“What about skeetschruting?”

_“Which one was that again?”_

“Throwing things into Dwight’s mug from the reception desk.”

_“I did not mention that one, I should have though.”_

Great, now she was thinking about him at her desk, his roll-up sleeves and his adorable boyish grin when he managed to sink a paperclip into that coffee mug. “Well, I think it’s a good team building activity, I at least had a lot of fun doing it.”

_“Yeah that was … a good day.”_

There was silence again and Pam chewed her lip. “Well I’ll let you go.”

_“Okay, yeah, um, feel free to call or text about any Michael disasters. I honestly kind of miss that.”_

“Is your competent boss giving you drama withdrawals?”

_“He is, like would you believe we haven’t had a single meeting where he’s tried to do an off-color comedy routine, what kind of management style is that?”_

She giggled but felt her smile fade fast, suddenly and acutely missing the looks they gave each other during such meetings with Michael. “Well I’ll keep you updated. It’ll be at least a weekly report.”

_“Sounds good, talk to you soon, Beesly.”_

Pam’s breath caught in her throat, and she managed to choke out a “Later, Jim” before ending the call.

She was doing fine, she even maneuvered through the part where he talked about dating someone else, then that 'Beesly'. Tears spilled onto her cheeks before she realized it, talking to him made her feel better than just about anything and yet once the phone call was over she was left absolutely miserable. And she had no one to blame for that but herself.

A text alert dinged, and after drying her eyes, Pam looked to see it was Isabel.

_\- Movie at seven, martinis after, you in? Or has something come up ;-)_

Pam scoffed at that last bit and quickly typed her reply. _I’m completely free. Where will drinks be at?_

_\- Night Moves, usually a decent number of cute guys there._

Sweet as it was of Isabel to try to get Pam out there, meeting a guy was just about the last thing she wanted tonight. _I’ll be focusing on the martinis._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love me some Danny Cordray and it pained me to portray him like this, but let's face there's a good chance he would be this way XD
> 
> The skeetschruting stuff is from [this Office Olympics deleted scene.](https://www.instagram.com/p/BPOJwzXhKeH/)
> 
> Thanks for reading and let me know what you think!


	4. you'll be flushed when you return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fully canon divergent now, Jim gets a promotion, but how does he fare when he still has to see a certain receptionist?

**Scranton 30mi**

After making the drive from New York to Scranton a few times now, Jim had decided the last half hour of the drive was always the hardest. He wished he could blame it on the road conditions or the traffic, but he knew it was the anxiety of getting closer to Scranton and of seeing certain people. Person, really. It was May, and he was hyper aware of the “anniversary” coming up. It was strange, so much had changed in the last year and yet here he was driving back to the Scranton Business Park.

It started with Jan suddenly quitting just after the new year. Her message to everyone detailed she was moving to Phoenix for exciting new opportunities and to be closer to family. When Darryl emailed him a photo Michael shared of his Jamaican vacation the actual reason became clear. 

“I get quitting, but fleeing the state?” Karen said when they were gossiping about the photo of Jan sunbathing as Michael pointed at her ass with a huge grin on his face. “Can you imagine?”

Jim thought of casino nights and parking lots and packing for Connecticut the next day. “No, that’s pretty extreme.”

Jan quitting meant an open position at corporate and though everyone assumed Josh was a shoe-in, Karen encouraged Jim to put his name in anyway. “At the very least it means you’ll likely get manager when Josh goes to corporate.” she argued, though Jim suspected she was more interested in getting the assistant manager position than anything. When Josh leveraged the corporate offer into a higher-paying job offer at Staples, Jim got the call from David Wallace, saying despite Jim’s lack of managerial experience he was very impressive in his interview and David felt he was a good fit for the job. 

By February Jim was at corporate and Karen regional manager at Stamford. The job itself wasn’t quite as elite as it was made out to be. Though his title was Vice-President of Sales, the board stripped a lot of the VP “perks” from the position after Jan’s surprise departure, Jim didn’t even get his own office. He mostly drove to the branches (in his own car, the company car perk was also eliminated) and was basically a glorified supervisor of the branch managers, especially one Michael Scott. 

Things were progressing with Karen and he was planning to move in with her when his lease was up next month. Their relationship was good, they had a lot of fun together and he couldn’t lie, the sex was amazing. He sometimes felt a little like he didn’t know her all that well, when they talked about their childhoods or school years her stories were often brief without much detail. And it was always a little tense when he visited Stamford in a work capacity. Of course he expected Karen to act professional but he didn’t expect her to give him such a hard time and often contradict him on every point in their meetings. Then again, the nights after these tense meetings were usually the most spirited in the bedroom, nights when Karen would beg him to tie her wrists to the headboard with one of his neckties and fuck her senseless and he would happily oblige.

Despite the job maybe not being as great as he hoped, and him maybe not knowing his girlfriend as well as he would like, things were still pretty good and he was pretty happy. He did his level best to keep all this in mind every time he visited Scranton and it mostly worked, if not totally.

It was the thing he dreaded most in this job, visiting Scranton and seeing _her_. There hadn’t been any phone calls since last fall (which was best for both of them, Jim figured) but they texted and emailed occasionally, Pam mostly reporting Michael antics and him letting her know that Craig in Albany sometimes challenged Michael for the “biggest problem manager” title. 

Seeing her was a different story though. He had visited three times since he got the job and had managed so far to keep all interactions with Pam short and friendly, mostly quick conversations at her desk either before or after meetings with Michael. But being greeted by that smile still put the same little flutter in his chest that he had the very first time he met her. 

The last time Jim visited, he noticed some flyers at Pam’s desk for an art show at the community college. He somewhat jokingly asked if he should attend, but she insisted it was just a class art show and definitely not worth him making a special trip. Jim laughed it off while also trying to dream up an excuse to come back later that week to attend. But when he was in the kitchen grabbing coffee and saw her smiling up at a bearded, tan, slimmed down Roy, Jim instantly scrapped the plan.

Today, he walked in and she greeted him warmly. He immediately noticed her hair was a little smoother, make-up was a little brighter and her pink sweater (why’d it have to be pink?) was new. He greeted her back, then turned his head and saw the painting on the wall by Michael’s window, giving him the perfect excuse to not approach her desk. “This is new,” Jim took a step closer, recognizing her style of the delicate watercolors.

“Oh yeah, that was one of my pieces at the art show,” she said shyly.

“That’s right, how was that?” Jim said, pretending he only just recalled.

“Hey, Slim Jim!” Michael said, peeking out of his office. “Ah, admiring the Pamcasso piece. She nailed it, didn’t she? See my car?”

“Yeah, it’s really great,” Jim replied, looking to Pam just long enough to see her blush. “You ready, Michael?” Michael stared at him blankly and Jim raised his eyebrows. “We’re discussing new vendors and third quarter goals today?”

“Right, right, right,” Michael said, though Jim suspected Michael still had no clue. “And then afterwards you’re joining our Welcome Back Oscar slash Cinco De Mayo celebration?”

Jim tilted his head, “What are we welcoming Oscar back from?”

“You know.” Jim shook his head and Michael lowered his voice, “His gay-cation.”

“Okay, first, not calling it that. And second, didn’t he get back from his leave like three months ago?” Jim asked while Michael glanced in the conference room.

“Oh, come on, Angela, where are the decorations?”

Angela’s blonde hair and scowling face peeked over the partition behind the reception desk. “Pam was supposed to bring in everything.” Jim’s eyes fell on Pam, who made an “oh” with her lips.

“No, Angela, you are the head of the party planning committee, as the leader you take responsibility,” Michael said, as everyone within earshot turned and gave their best ‘ _oh really?_ ’ face. 

“No, Michael, it is my fault. Everything is at my place, I rushed out the door and forgot it,” Pam admitted.

“We really don’t even need to have this party, Michael,” Oscar piped in.

Michael was having none of that suggestion. “No, Oscar, we are celebrating you and your heritage. This is like Mexico’s Christmas!”

“I’m pretty sure _Christmas_ is Mexico’s Christmas,” Jim muttered.

“Pam, go get everything from your place,” Michael said. “Take Dwight, he can help you carry things.”

“Hold on, I haven’t been to Pam’s neighborhood. I’m not sure what protective measures to take.” Dwight opened his drawer and started rummaging around. “I suppose I can bring my nun-chucks.”

Jim, seeing Pam’s mouth hanging open in horror, decided to jump in. “You know what, I’ll go with Pam to get the party supplies.”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Oh, okay, so then I guess then we have to postpone our meeting-”

“We’ll have the meeting when I get back,” Jim affirmed, trying not to smile at Michael’s sullen expression that he couldn’t weasel out of it. Jim turned to the reception desk, “Ready?”

“Um, yeah,” Pam said, standing and grabbing her purse.

They were quiet in the elevator and on the way to Jim’s car, which he offered to take because he got reimbursed for gas (at least corporate gave him _that_ perk). The car ride was also quiet, he looked over occasionally to see her tracing her fingers along the armrest in the door.

“It’s a left here then a right at the green ‘Maple Grove’ sign,” Pam said as they neared her place. She never quite looked at him.

“Okay.” Jim smirked, “So, gimme the layout. Would Dwight have needed his nun-chucks?”

Finally she met his eyes and let out a giggle, “Oh, no, the scariest thing is the woman a couple units over who leaves passive aggressive notes on your car if you didn’t park in what she determined to be the correct spot.”

“Does sound like someone who could snap one day though,” Jim quipped, turning at the green sign and into a parking lot. He parked near a staircase and followed Pam up and into a small apartment. 

“One kitchen, as you can see,” Pam said, and it took a moment for Jim to remember the comment he made months ago. The time they talked on the phone before the time they -

That was the last place he wanted his mind to wander to, so he focused on the table by the door. “Oh wow,” he said, taking in the colorful collection of pinatas and straw sombreros.

“Michael said he wanted the works.” Pam took a sombrero and put it on her head. “I might add this to my regular wardrobe though, what do you think?”

He thought she looked far cuter in that novelty sombrero than she had any business to. “Looks good,” he replied, forcing his eyes onto the sombrero stack and picking up one to put on himself. “I feel like some mustaches are missing though.”

“Oh I got some.” Pam reached into a shopping bag only to pull out fuzzy stick-on mustaches. 

They both dissolved into a laughing fit and once Jim recovered, he noticed a stack of brightly colored cards. “What are these?”

“Loteria cards. I think Michael googled ‘Mexican things’ and they came up so he wanted them. I didn’t know where to find any so I just made them myself.”

Jim shuffled through the cards, “You drew all of these?”

Pam let out an exhausted laugh, “Yeah, spent a night in front of the wikipedia page. I wrote the little verses on there also, thought they were kinda cute.”

“These are great, Pam.” He looked briefly at her blushing cheeks before they both let out a nervous laugh. He took off the hat and set it back on the sombrero stack. “Well, I don’t know about you but I’m in no hurry to get back.” He imagined another fruitless meeting trying to explain everything to Michael before he gave up and just sent a memo to the sales team anyway.

She took off the large hat and patted down her hair, “Yeah, I’m not either. Um, I have some sodas in the fridge.”

Jim took that as an invitation to cross the kitchen to the refrigerator and peek inside, immediately eyeing some bottles, “How do you feel about a midday beer instead?” He turned his head and smirked, “I won’t tell Michael if you won’t.”

Pam gave a small smile and nodded, “Okay, sure.”

Jim grabbed two bottles and they settled in on her couch. They clinked bottles and took a few sips and he watched her pick at the label on her beer.

“So, how is everything? With corporate and New York and all that,” Pam eventually asked.

He didn’t know what he wanted to talk about, but this wasn’t it. “Fine, I get along with everyone pretty well. Getting to try out lots of New York restaurants which is nice. I’m um,” now he was the one nervously picking at his beer label. “I’m moving in with Karen next month.”

“How’s she doing?” Pam said in a surprising sincere voice.

“Good, she loves being a manager. But I think being able to tell Andy Bernard what to do is a big part of that,” Jim said, taking another swig.

“I don’t blame her, I wouldn’t mind being able to tell Dwight what to do.” Pam took a sip and thought for a minute, “Though that’s assuming he’d actually listen to me.”

“He wouldn’t, I can confirm that,” Jim said with a chuckle. “How’s life for you?”

Pam shrugged, “Oh you know, I live here, I still work at Dunder Mifflin. Nothing exciting, that’s for sure.”

“Nothing exciting isn’t a bad thing though,” Jim said. His eyes fell on a stack of watercolors on her coffee table. “Are these from your show?” he said, setting the beer down. Pam nodded and he started thumbing through the papers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to that.”

Pam shook her head and waved her hand, “No, please, it was just my class displaying some assignments, really.”

Jim carefully went through the stack of paintings. “These are cool, I like the flower vase,” he said.

“You don’t have to... I know they’re not very good,” Pam said in a deflated tone.

He turned to Pam and found her with slumped shoulders, still shredding her beer label. “What, no, I think they’re good. That one back at the office is really good. Michael loves it.”

“He only likes it because I put his car in it.” Pam muttered.

Jim studied the painting spread across the table, “You said these were class assignments, right? They’re really just practice. So, you keep practicing and taking classes and at the next art show you’ll be happier with your work.”

Pam shrugged, “ _If_ I keep taking classes.”

Jim’s brows met, and he shifted to turn more towards her. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Taking a shaky breath, Pam shook her head, still looking at the floor. “I don’t know, I just… hearing about your life and you have a great job in a great city with a great girlfriend and I’m so happy for you, I really am. But where am I? I have no degree, I live in this deadend town, I buy straw sombreos and draw playing cards on my off time because I’m Michael Scott’s fucking errand girl.” Her voice cracked and she tried to cover her trembling chin.

Jim’s left hand instinctively went to her back, rubbing the back of her shoulders to try to comfort her, while his right took the bottle with the shredded label and set it on the table. He clenched his jaw and then said the thing he had been thinking for three months. “Pam, I hate my job.” She looked at him with shiny eyes. “All I do is drive to the branches and babysit the regional managers, even Karen barely takes me seriously. I do the things the other much better paid executives don’t wanna do. If you’re Michael Scott’s errand girl, I’m the Dunder Mifflin VP of Bitchwork.”

Pam laughed, reaching up to wipe her eyes. “You can still move up the bitchwork ladder though, right?”

“I suppose,” Jim said with a chuckle. His hand wrapped around her shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Everything you’re not happy with you can change, you can get a degree, you can move out of here.”

“Not everything though,” Pam said quietly. She looked at Jim and took a shaky breath, “Can’t change what I said to you last May.”

Jim took his own shaky breath and she quickly said sorry and looked down at the floor, blinking tears out of her eyes. Without thinking, he brought his hand up and tilted her face back to him, cupping her cheek and wiping a tear away with his thumb. It had been a year, so much had changed, but not the flutter in his chest when he was near her.

He was not sure who leaned forward first, he supposed it didn’t matter, all that mattered was the vanilla taste of her lips, the little gasp she let out with their tongues touched. Shrugging off his jacket, he then wrapped his arm around her, their lips barely parting as he laid her back on the couch. He kissed across her jawline and down her neck until he reached her collar, then unbuttoned her shirt slowly, kissing every new bit of exposed skin until her shirt was unbuttoned below her bra. It was lacy and pink, and he kissed the top of her breast, his hand traveling to her other breast, his thumb making circles until he could feel her nipple harden underneath the fabric. 

She moaned softly and his lips traveled back up her chest and neck to her mouth, his hand reaching below the top of her bra until his fingers found the firm bud. “Oh God,” she breathed. She pulled her face away, her eyes focused below his chin as she fumbled with his tie and then the top button of his shirt. He pushed himself up so she could work faster, and to his surprise she just bypassed the rest of his buttons and went straight to his belt, just below which he could feel himself start to strain against the fabric of his slacks.

He looked down at her and for some reason absolutely beyond him he thought of his corporate interview when David Wallace asked where Jim saw himself in ten years. Jim skillfully worked through it with bullshit about expanding his experiences and advancing his career, hopefully within the company. But the truth was he didn’t see himself at corporate, nor did he see a Brooklyn loft with a smoky-voiced brunette. He only saw her. Even after everything, he only wanted her. 

“Tell me to come back.”

Pam’s hands stilled and she looked up to his face. “What?”

“Just say it, I’ll do it,” he said, his breaths still heavy.

Her brows met in confusion, “Come back here? Why?”

“You know why.”

She slightly shook her head. “I … I can’t ask you to -”

“Then come to New York.” He put his hand to her face and started stroking her cheek with his thumb. “Make all those changes.”

Her green eyes searched his, unsure what to say. “Jim…” she whispered.

Just then a tinny song started coming from his jacket on the floor, he knew who it was from the melody and it must have been clear on his face because Pam started shifting under him.

“You should get that,” she said quietly, pressing her lips together.

Jim let out a heavy exhale and pushed himself up, grabbing the jacket off the floor and digging out his phone. “Hey,” he said once he answered the call.

_“Hey! You’re not in a meeting are you? I was just gonna leave a message,”_ Karen said.

“No, I’m actually out helping fetch supplies for a Cinco De Mayo party at Scranton,” Jim said, watching Pam button up her shirt and smooth down her hair out of the side of his eye. 

Karen let out something between a scoff and a laugh. _“Um, okay, you think you’ll be back by seven? I managed to get reservations at that new fusion sushi bar we’ve been wanting to try.”_

You’ve _been wanting to try,_ he thought briefly. “Um, sure, seven should work.” Pam stood and grabbed her beer bottle, and his eyes couldn’t help but follow her as she shuffled to the kitchen.

_“I assume you’ll have some fresh Michael Scott misadventures to tell me about?”_

Jim watched Pam take out some tins out of her refrigerator and gather up the decorations, never looking in his direction. “You know I will.”

_“Okay, call me when you’re on your way back,”_ Karen said hanging up before Jim could mutter goodbye. 

He stared at the phone screen for a moment, before buttoning up his shirt, retying his tie and slipping his arms into his jacket. His eyes fell on his half-full beer on the coffee table. He grabbed it and took a sizable swig, then stood and walked slowly towards the kitchen. “Pam,” he said softly.

She pointed at the tins, not looking up, “So this is tamales and this is refried beans and rice, they should probably go on the floor behind the seats.” She motioned to a couple large plastic bottles, “And Michael wanted Mexican lemonade, whatever that is. I just put a squiggly over the N and drew a Mexican flag on the label.”

“Pam,” he said again, and she finally looked up at him.

“Let’s just go back, please,” her voice was on the verge of breaking.

He chewed the inside of his cheek and nodded. “Okay,” he whispered, pushing the images of poker chips and purple dresses out of his head.

The car ride back was nearly silent. Jim only dared to sneak looks at Pam when turning or going through an intersection and the whole time she stared out the window, fussing with the charm on her necklace. Once they got everything upstairs, she and Angela retreated into the conference room and Jim reluctantly went into Michael’s office.

The meeting with Michael was predictably unproductive, though it turned out to be less Michael wanting to talk business at all and more Jim being distracted. His mind constantly went back to that little one-kitchened apartment and Pam underneath him half undressed and everything he’d been wanting for four years about to happen before he opened his stupid mouth.

He stayed long enough at the Cinco De Mayo/Welcome Back Oscar party to have a tamale and see Dwight absolutely pulverize one of the pinatas before saying his goodbyes and exiting the conference room. He found Pam standing in front of her painting, sipping on lemonade (which was more Russian than Mexican once Meredith went around offering a generous splash of vodka from a flask). Part of him wanted to just walk past her, give her a wave at most on the way to the door. But as always something just drew him to her, and he walked over and leaned against the wall next to the painting.

She gave him a small smile, “Heading out?” 

“Yeah, try to beat traffic.” She nodded and looked back to her painting, and he started studying it himself. “I really do think this is good.”

“Thanks.” She tilted her head, “I’ll keep at it, I promise.”

Jim smiled, “Good.” He took a quick look around, and after seeing the bullpen was empty, he stepped towards her. “I meant what I said, about you coming to New York,” he said in a low voice. “You can go to art school, go to all those museums, get a good job.” Somehow his hand found hers, as soft and small and warm as the time he held it that evening last May.

She met his eyes and took a couple deep breaths but just as she opened her mouth to say something, they heard Michael call out Jim’s name. She quickly pulled her hand away from his and Jim spun around.

“Good, you’re still here, you didn’t get your card.” Michael held up a fan of cards, “Pick one and that card represents your fortune.”

“That’s not how it works, Michael, I think you’re thinking of tarot cards,” Pam said, siding up to Jim.

Michael’s brows met, “What are these?”

“Loteria cards,” she answered, shooting a glance to Jim and rolling her eyes.

“Well, pick one anyway,” Michael insisted. 

Jim pulled a card and took a quick look at it and held it up to Michael, “La Rosa.”

“Ah, La Rosa,” Michael made sure to roll the r. “The Rose. That means something is blooming in your life.” Jim nodded, knowing Michael completely made that up, and tried to hand the card back but Michael refused, “You keep it.”

Jim looked to Pam, silently asking permission. She just shrugged, so he slipped the card into his jacket pocket. “Gracias, mi amigo”

A delighted look spread across Michael's face at Jim speaking Spanish. “And mucho gracias to you too,” he said with a strange hand flourish before turning back to the conference room.

“Okay,” Jim muttered, turning to Pam. They looked at each other for a moment before he pointed his thumb back over his shoulder. “I should probably…”

“Yeah, um, drive safe,” she said, her hand back to fussing with the charm on her necklace.

He nodded and turned on his heels to head for the door. _Don’t look back,_ he told himself when his hand reached the door handle, but he glanced back anyway. She was half turned away, her eyes down on her shoe that she was digging into the carpet. Letting out a sigh, he pulled open the door.

On the elevator, he reached into his pocket for his phone, his fingertips finding Pam’s loteria card instead. He pulled the card out, his eyes following the delicate line work of the rose petals, down to the leaves and the stem until he reached the verse written in her handwriting.

_Rosita, Rosaura, come, as I want you here now._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare to be frustrated by these two for while XD
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope the time jump and everything else makes sense. And my own knowledge of loteria card doesn't extend beyond the wikipedia page but hopefully it works. Let me know what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> Love JAM and TSwift?? You'll love [MoreThanThat](http://mtt.just-once.net/fanfiction/)


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